


Shrike

by Infamous_society



Series: Wasteland, Baby [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Gondor, Helm's Deep, I'm Sorry, Inspired by a Hozier Song, M/M, Middle Earth, Rohan, Song: Shrike (Hozier), Title from a Hozier Song, battles, lots and lots of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:13:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: Legolas realised everything a little too late.A journey through Middle Earth alongside its characters accompanied by Hozier songs.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Male Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Reader, Legolas Greenleaf/You
Series: Wasteland, Baby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090121
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Shrike

**Author's Note:**

> I cried writing this, so be aware it is full of angst.
> 
> Shrike by Hozier

_**Shrike** \- (noun) _ _a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill, often impaling its prey on thorns._

You had met him on the walls of Helm’s Deep. Or perhaps you had known him before then, your mind told you tales of journeys towards Mirkwood and the northern lands when you had seen flashes of starlight. Aragorn had spoken to you of travelling across endless plains with an archer. Stories of a prince trapped within the forest lingered on people’s tongues. It was better to say you met him properly on the walls of Helm’s Deep. 

The rain lashed your armour, made your grip on your blade slippy and weak. The darkness seemed all consuming - your friend Éomer banished and Faramir far away in Gondor. Boromir lay dead. And for a second you had believed Aragorn was dead too. Still you stood on the wall, gazing out into the night.

A dissatisfied huff came from next to you and you turned your head. A dwarf, next to him an elf. The elf. The starlight, the archer, the prince. Otherworldly. His bow was in his hand ready as he laughed at the dwarf. You couldn’t help but smile at them both, these were Aragorn’s companions. 

“Legolas, I have heard many stories about you,” you placed your hand across your chest in greeting. “Gimli, Aragorn has told me about you too.”   
  
Aragorn’s voice rang out above the clamour of the battle, Legolas drew his bowstring back, muscles taut, a look of concentration on his face. Every inch an elven prince amongst mortals. You turned your head back, looking out over the advancing army as the rain grew heavier.   
  
Silence. 

Then an all consuming fear and desire coursed through your body as your arrow hit its mark.   
  
  
_I couldn't utter my love when it counted..._  
  


Deep, shuddering breaths overtook you, Saruman’s forces were overwhelming. Your sword sliced through your enemy but each gap was easily replaced. You quickly lifted your head. Starlight. An orc behind him, poised ready to strike. Your dagger flew freely and the enemy collapsed. Legolas turned away towards the remaining stairs - no acknowledgement of you protecting his immortality. A sigh softly escaped your lips as you drew back towards the gates. 

Éomer was alive. Gandalf too. As you stood with Éomer and Eowyn laughing you seemed to miss the slight smile the elven prince directed towards you.

Ale sloshed everywhere. Éomer stifled a laugh, your eyes had been focused on Legolas - convincing yourself you were only thinking about him because you were waiting on him to thank you. Not because of the way he licked his lips to ensure he drank every drop, not because his smile seemed like a deadly trap but because he dismissed your sacrifice in battle. His eyes flickered towards you as you turned away, his cheeks flushing a slight pink - perhaps the alcohol was affecting him more than he realised.

”Aragorn, I ride for Gondor today, your people await me,” the hall was cool, the spirits of the dead seemed to be observing your every move.

He nodded his head slightly, clasping your arm, “Ride safely.” 

“And quickly,” Éomer added, his hands grasped your shoulder.

Legolas stepped forward, barely enough to notice, words trapped within his mind, “we will meet you there.” 

The echo of hooves rang through the air.

  
_Following your form, hung like the pelt of some prey you had worn..._

Aragorn had whispered tales of endless nights struggling through snowstorms, a companion by his side. A companion who had travelled the lengths of Middle Earth, one who called Rohan and Gondor home. Legolas was intrigued from the very start, frowning when Boromir would laugh as Aragorn spoke. His mind showed flashes of blades, a body huddling in a cave within the mountains, hands grasping onto a horse’s mane. Wonder filled him, he decided when he met you he would follow you wherever you went.   
  


Yet here he stood, a slight headache and a frown upon his face watching the horse disappear out of view. Your voice rang through his head, then a silver flash of your grace saving his immortality. He turned back to Aragorn.   
  


Your reception in Gondor was cold, Faramir was not there and you did not dare announce your arrival to anyone else. Grief and guilt had finally taken their toll on you and in a lonely corner of Minas Tirith you felt yourself sinking slowly into your pile of furs.   
  


Battle was upon you again, your armour tired and your swords growing dull. The Rohirrim had ridden out to meet you and Éomer told you of the hopeless mission of the man, elf and dwarf. Despair rose within you, Legolas would die alongside Aragorn and Gimli. He would never thank you, never wrap his arms around you and never gently place his lips on yours. You frowned slightly, war was not a time to think of love.   
  


They appeared before you had time to acknowledge it. You had woven your horse in and out of the Oliphants path when a cry of defiance rang out across the Pelennor Fields. Starlight. Agile and lithe, your heart beat heavily in its chest as Legolas seemed to defy death, his aim never faltering.   
  


His bow appeared next to your side, a tantalising smile on his normally emotionless face. A waltz across the battlefield, back to back instead of in your rightful solace of each other’s arms. You fought on.

_  
Words hung above, but never would form..._

A smile crept across you face as you stood next to Legolas. Éomer stood on your other side, face stern and sorrowful. You were surrounded by royalty, by friends, by loss but you finally felt comfortable. The blood and gore of Pelennor Fields had been discarded and washed off skin but not out of memory. Still, Legolas looked as if the Valar had sent him to Arda as a blessing, as a gift to avenge the futile deaths that scattered the plains of Middle Earth.   
  


The evening drew near, the clouds heavy, the red sky indicating more bloodshed tomorrow. A soft hand brushed against yours, Legolas gazing towards the sky.

“There are no stars,” you broke the silence. “The stars remind me of journeys from before this darkness consumed the lands.” 

Legolas smiled wistfully, “we celebrate the starlight in Mirkwood.”

A soft hum left your lips, almost a laugh, “when I have travelled near Mirkwood I have seen flashes of starlight, but I heard the starlight was the radiance of the Prince.”   
  
He froze. He looked intoxicated once again, a rosy colour flushing his face. Leaning forward you brushed your lips against his cheek, turning away and disappearing into the shadows of Minas Tirith.   
  


Legolas looked skywards once again, praying for the slightest glimpse of the stars to no avail. He believed his soul was aching, melting, burning. Everything else seemed insignificant - the battles, the burden of the crown he bore, the coldness that had consumed him previously. His mind flashed through memories of sitting on the throne, Thranduil murmuring softly about elves loving only once. Perhaps, he mused, this is what it felt like.   
  


You rode forward towards the Black Gate, the fellowship and Éomer alongside you. Legolas looked like a true fighter and leader, not an ounce of fear on his face. Maybe you faltered, maybe all hope left you when you saw Frodo’s armour. Maybe you clung tightly to the elven clasp Legolas had passed to you as you mounted your horse, a worried smile playing on his features.

You turned to him, “we will see the stars across Middle Earth tomorrow.”   
  


Bloodlust burned through your veins. You had become separated from the others but hope still raged inside of you. A flash of starlight entered your vision and you smiled. Legolas was here.   
  


But then he wasn’t. You snarled, light in such dark and dire times was deceptive. The flash disarmed you. The flash drove deep in to your stomach. Then the flash disappeared with a growl of pride. Was this how all prey died? Impaled, eyes glazing over as they stared skywards, hope escaping their soul.   
  


A scream erupted across the sound of swords, piercing, heartbreaking - elven grief. He scrambled over piles of bodies, desperate to reach you. You had only just left his side. Pain etched across your face was slowly beginning to dissolve into peace. You had saved his life but now, when it counted the most, he could not repay his debt. Blood and grime covered his clasp that lay tightly in your hand. Your lips moved slightly, no sound came out. Perhaps it was your fate all along to bleed out in Gondor, surrounded by men of Rohan, fighting alongside a man, a dwarf, hobbits and an elf, looking for the starlight. But you had not accounted for loving the elf. You had not accounted for all the years you had yet to live by his side. 

“Legolas”, his name escaped your lips as you winced. Tears ran down his cheeks that once flushed red under the same sky.   
  
He smiled gently at you, his hand gripping yours, “I love you, I think I loved you from the moment you saved my life, perhaps even before.” 

A manic laugh threatened to escape your throat but instead a slight whimper of pain emerged. You gripped his hand, squeezing it tightly, trying to express the same emotion in return.  
  
“The stars, Legolas, the...”

_Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted..._

The stars shone brightly, filtering through the emerald leaves of Greenwood.   
  


It seemed as if the bodies surrounded him once again, friend and foe alike writhing in agony as you lay there peacefully, his lips pressed against yours as if his kiss would bring you back to life. His bow couldn’t, his swords couldn’t, his crown couldn’t, even his love couldn’t.

He had realised everything a little too late. His arrogance, his love for you, his loss as you left his side in the midst of battle.  
  


Stories of an elven prince who was slowly dying spread across Middle Earth. They said he had fought alongside the Kings of Gondor and Rohan, alongside a wizard, alongside a companion who had travelled the lengths of the lands. A companion who had saved the prince from his own untimely death. A companion who never made it back.   
  


He was your prey. His heart impaled and torn, eyes glazed with a constant haze of sorrow, hope had left his body, taking his soul with it.   
  


The woods of home offered him little comfort.   
  


The darkness you had spoken of had fled the forest but a new type of darkness clouded his mind. The starlight flickered onto his face, painting his hair and lighting his eyes. Yet he was no longer the starlight.   
  


He would see the stars across Middle Earth. Alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @riderofrohirrim feel free to follow me on there for more stuff like this. Maybe some less depressing stuff as well!


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